Not Forgotten
by m00ofd00m
Summary: Three years ago Duo left his lover, Heero, on the colony of L2 after a fight. Now, he returns to see what has become of Heero and finds himself drawn into a world of pain and fear he'd wanted to leave behind forever. Rated for implied rape and language.
1. Going Home

NOT FORGOTTEN

'_What are you doing?_' he asked himself for what felt like the millionth time. Sighing, his answer was the same as it had been five minutes ago, '_I just don't know. I wish I did, but I don't, so stop asking stupid questions_' he told his uncooperative brain.

A pretty girl across the row flashed him a sweet smile. Sometimes it was damned annoying having a four-foot-long braid; girls were always giggling and whispering wherever he went, not to mention the amount of conditioner he went through every month just to keep it manageable.

The bus came to a stop and several people jostled their way forward and out of the crowded seating, to lose themselves on the busy city streets. After a while the faces all seemed to blur together and he couldn't have rightly said how long he'd been sitting there, staring into space. But the part of him that still cared said that he needed to hold together until… something -whatever it was- and in order to do that, he needed to find food and a safe place to sleep. When next the bus stopped, he joined the crowd of people pressing forward, heading down a dark street in the direction opposite of the others.

Funny that this random street should bring up so many memories, so many things he wanted desperately to pretend were nonexistent nightmares, not some horrible reality he'd lived out every day of his teenage life. A life of killing and terror beyond belief, with only the memory of icy blue eyes to break the cycle of awful images. He remembered with a sense of nostalgia, that those eyes were not icy blue for their color, but more for the expression in them. Completely cold, no emotions. The only time they thawed even the barest hint was in the wake of spent passion. He never could look Heero in the eye after they fucked. He couldn't stand seeing those eyes lose their distance, and feeling so cheap, because he would do anything to have Heero look at him with real emotions. Anything, including using his tight little ass and pretty-boy face to seduce the other Gundam Pilot. He was a whore, and he was irrevocably the property of 01.

His frail body shivered in the cold winter air, fingers convulsively wrapping his long trench-coat tighter, thin hands shaking. Because all he had anymore were the nightmares, every time he closed his eyes, or let his guard down, they were there, waiting patiently for him, just like old times.

He walked faster, the shadows charging his mind with a nervousness completely out of character with who he was, or at least who he had been. It had been so long and those blue eyes, warmed by the temporary heat of passion seemed to fade every day, but that was the only thing that did, the rest stayed as fresh as if he still had to awaken to the monotonous repetition of pain and death and fear.

So what if they'd all left him in the end? He didn't need them right? He was Shinagami, God of Death, Deathsythe Pilot 02, fucking happy-go-lucky braided baka, and he didn't need anyone!

Bowing his head he blew on his icy hands to warm them. When he reached the part of town where the streetlights were broken and dark he turned onto it, not sure why. Something about the shadows here seemed so familiar. Warily he searched the darkness. A little ways down the street he saw a lonely figure silhouetted in black, hunched deceptively under an unlit street light. Drug dealer… Duo knew the type; after all, one didn't spend your whole life on L2 and not know your way around the lower streets. If fate hadn't intervened he probably would have ended up just like that man. The thought was a sobering one. As he drew nearer he smelled the sour traces of alcohol and stale smoke. Carefully he kept one hand caressing the handle of his weapon, ready to draw at a moments warning. It seemed foolish, after all, the war was over, but he still carried the blasted thing everywhere. It made him feel safe, even knowing that in some situations, guns just weren't enough.

_** /Crack/** the hardened fist connected solidly with his jaw and he tasted blood as he doubled over, hiding the fragile bones of his face from his assailant. Gasping in pain he felt his rib snap audibly under another blow to his side. He staggered forward blindly, falling heavily, but strong arms caught him in a painful grasp, forcefully shoving him up against the wall where he couldn't hide from the fists. Reeling he tried to catch his breath before more blows were rained on his undefended body, over and over, until all he could do was scream, waiting numbly for the release he'd come to associate with unconsciousness._

Shivering he jerked past the man on the sidewalk. The last thing he wanted now were drugs, they tended to fuck with his head in strange and unpleasant ways. What was done was done, and he should be able to move on now, and he knew from experience that drugs wouldn't solve anything when he was like this. Sure they took it away for now, but in the morning they just left you with more problems, when you had to explain to those cold, angry eyes how you'd managed to do yet another dumbass thing. That once again he'd fucked up, and yes, it was completely his fault, and no, he hadn't been thinking of the mission. He knew it was pointless to go down that line of thought; it was only one painful betrayal after another.

Rubbing his fists in his gritty eyes he turned off the shadowy street onto one with a restaurant that emitted a cheerful glow that seemed so out of place as to be absurd in this gloomy neighborhood, which was just fine with Duo. His stomach was reminding him with a vengeance that he hadn't eaten for over two days. With a last glance at the blessedly concealing darkness of outside he mounted the steps and entered the warm little building.

A plump, cheery woman bustled over to him with a surprised look on her face.

"What can I get you for dearie?" she asked in the odd Sanc Dialect of the region, smiling motheringly at him. He almost snorted. It wasn't every day that young men with braids reaching to their knees, black trench-coats and army boots got called "dearie" by people they'd never met on the streets of L2. He managed to restrain the unkindly impulse though, it just seemed out of place in this little room. Instead he ordered coffee, black of course. There had been a time when he had loaded his coffee with so much cream and sugar that it was practically pudding, and snorted at Heero, who would be grimacing as he tossed back a boiling cup of the strongest stuff he could brew. He paid the woman silently and pulled the coat closer about his thin form.

The coffee did its job and when he could no longer sit still, he left, watching the first rays of the morning sun touch the dingy houses of L2, turning each dwelling into a golden palace for a second. Shaking his head, he wondered briefly where the glory had gone. Was it him? Had he lost something in the war, or was it the rest of the world? He just didn't know anymore. As he squinted into the brightness, he suddenly realized why this place seemed so familiar to him. He could have killed himself right then. This was the last place he wanted to be. His mind whirled in panic. Of all the streets on L2, he just had to be walking down this particular one. At that moment he would have given anything to be a coward. But his morbid curiosity kept him walking straight towards the one place where he couldn't hide from the memories that haunted him.


	2. Here is Gone

NOT FORGOTTEN

Duo stood uncertainly in the doorway, poised for flight. It would be so easy to just turn around and forget about old ties, and even older pain. To just leave the half healed scars to close, but he was always picking at them it seemed. He couldn't just leave, not when he was so close to the tantalizing promise of a truth he could no longer hide from. Slowly, deliberately, he pushed the door inward, surprised when it gave easily, swinging wide open at his touch.

Haltingly, he entered the apartment, the stench of smoke, hard liquor and decay overwhelming his senses. He didn't know what he'd expected, coming here, but it wasn't this. Silently he took in the dusty interior of the familiar apartment. Beer bottles were scattered about the much neglected room, and a syringe rested on the coffee table, the needle glittering cruelly up at him. Shocked at the signs glaring him in the face, he searched, a tad desperately, for the occupant. Softly, Duo made his way to the back bedroom. The generous bed looked quite empty, though well-used, and there were yet more indications of drug and alcohol abuse. '_Jesus Heero,' _he thought angrily, '_I would have thought that a big boy like yourself could have handled the real world better than this.'_ For a moment, Duo actually felt guilty, but he forced the emotion deep down where it wouldn't hamper him. He didn't need to deal with its company. Resignedly he wandered back into the front room and settled down to wait on the couch.

Some time later, Duo was still snoozing when he was startled awake by the sounds of someone opening the door and shoving inside. He heard footsteps entering the little room and he opened his eyes slowly to be confronted with confused Prussian blue orbs.

_ "Hello Heero."_


	3. Kill me, kiss me

NOT FORGOTTEN

"Hello Heero," his voice sounded odd, distant to his own ears, cut off from reality. He couldn't believe he was talking to Heero fucking Yuy.

"Duo?" came the hard voice of his former lover, with the barest hint of a question behind his name.

"That's me, Hee-chan." was the falsely bright answer.

"Why are you here?" growled Heero softly, his quiet voice coldly emphasizing the dangerous edge behind his question. An accusation flamed in his usually frozen eyes.

"I--" he wasn't sure why he was here, but Heero was staring at him and he obviously expected an answer. "I came home for a while, to… you know… check up on things…" he said lamely.

That threw Heero off, but he only grunted and turned to go into his room abruptly. "You should go." he called back over his shoulder, ignoring Duo's outraged shout behind him. "This isn't home anymore, Duo."

"Yeah, I can see that." '_you bastard!!!' _he glared contemptuously at the beer bottles, but he refused to leave now. It was so much farther than he'd gotten before. "Why should I leave?" he was afraid for Heero, though he'd never admit it. The drugs, the hard set of the other man's jaw, it just made him want to scream. It was so familiar. He'd played out this little scene so many times before. "Why do you want me to leave so soon? I don't have anywhere else to go."

"That's not my problem, now is it? You should have thought of that before you came here. Did you think I'd take you back like that, without question?" The words were scornful, and hurt. "You're leaving because I have… _company_ coming over." Heero shivered slightly, eyes going harder and blanker still. It took Duo a moment to recognize the drained voice, and when he did, he wished hat he hadn't. It was like Wufei all over again. He looked like Wufei had when they'd found him lying there on the OZ building floor, beaten and unconscious. He hadn't spoken for weeks. Even when he'd started talking again, it had been a long time before he'd told anyone what had happened in there. "What kind of company?" Duo asked stubbornly.

"I… just go damnit! I don't want you to get hurt." he willed with his eyes that Duo understand him and leave him to handle it on his own. He couldn't afford to let Duo get involved in this mess. The stakes were too high.

Duo nodded , looking a little frightened, and made his way to the door. He caught Heero's gaze forcefully, and in fierce whisper said, "Alright, I'll leave, but I'm not walking out on you again. I'll be back. We have to talk, Heero Yuy." At Heero's barely-perceptible nod, Duo stepped outside, closing the door gently behind him, fear for his one-time lover making him numb.

Crouching silently behind a bush, Duo had the perfect vantage point from which to watch Heero's door. It surprised him that Heero could so easily fall prey to the dangers of the real world when nothing could have touched him during the war. It shocked him that someone so _perfect_ could do something so stupid as to not realize how tantalizing a target he made on his own. It wasn't like he hadn't tried to explain how these things worked, but Heero could be a stubborn fool sometimes. Peering through the dusk he watched with narrowed eyes as a leather-clad young man, brutally handsome, made his way towards the house Heero was living in. His black trench coat flared out behind him as he walked, revealing skintight pants and a mesh shirt, spikes glittering wickedly off of his throat and wrists. Black nail polish, lipstick and heavy kohl finished off the effect, and Duo realized exactly what kind of attention Heero had been drawing. 'Damn_ Yuy, got yourself in some deep shit this time, huh?' _He shivered. He had known people like that, and all of them were bad news, especially for someone like Heero. He wished guiltily that he had prepared Heero better before he left him. But at the same time a little voice was shouting about how _unfair_ it all was. He had left Heero because he was going slowly insane. The other boy didn't show him any affection what-so-ever outside of bed, and it had been getting harder and harder to deal with the loneliness living with his lover was causing him. Duo had craved love above all things when he had been a pilot, and Heero knew it. His treatment of Duo had hurt the other boy beyond belief after he'd gone out of his way to show how much he cared. How much he _loved_, for that matter.

Still, all things considered, he felt responsible for the threat on Heero's doorstep. To people like that, Heero's silent attitude was a blatant challenge. One that couldn't be ignored since it happened to have the added bonus of a pretty new face.

Duo saw the dark figure open the door without knocking and enter, closing the door forcefully, like a warning-bell. He crawled along beside the house and stopped under a window. Listening with his breath held he winced as a crash and then an angry voice filtered through the open window. He heard Heero say something softly, but couldn't make out what it was, and then the sound of Heero getting beat up. He almost breathed easier, because if Heero was getting beat up, at least he wasn't getting raped. But then the sounds he'd feared most; "Slut," said a rough voice that made his skin crawl and burn. Heero landed on the bed heavily, right under the window where Duo was crouched. A low whimper turned into a moan and then Duo heard a broken litany of begging. He didn't know how long he'd been crouched their, listening, but it hadn't been that long, he was sure, and it scared him that Heero broke that easily. He'd never heard him beg before and it was terrifying. "Stop… please… I won't do it again…. No… ahhh! I promise! I… please… yokereba... Suru no o yameru sore… yokereba… Itaiiii!!! Ahhh!!! Chikusho!!! Aitsume baka!!!"

"Shuddup, you stupid whore!"

"Itaii!!!" Heero screamed in Japanese, and Duo knew it to be an exclamation of extreme pain in Heero's native language. Not that he really needed to translate. He winced as he heard the sound of something ripping and another scream, cut off abruptly. Now all he could hear was a low keening whimper that made him cringe. He realized belatedly that Heero must have been gagged. It hurt to know what was going on and that he could do nothing but wait until it was over. He listened carefully, until he heard the satisfied sigh as the other man climaxed. Then the sounds of him getting dressed over the top of quiet sobs coming from Heero, who was closer to the window. Duo silently wished the man a happy stay in Hell when he got his hands on the bastard. He heard the heavy thud of the man's boots as he retreated after getting dressed. The smell of blood made Duo want to be sick. The memories almost overwhelmed him. He remembered the smell of blood, more than anything else. And he remembered the broken pleading and the sobs afterwards, just hoping the pain would go away soon, happy at least that it was over for now. Afraid that if he breathed the pain would return again. Hoping that maybe he _could_ just stop breathing, let it all disappear. Nothing could erase those scars, those memories from him, no matter how much he tried to forget.

Moments later the man reappeared out the front door and went the opposite direction he had come. Gritting his teeth Duo stood slowly and went into the house.

Hesitantly he stood outside of the bedroom, but when he didn't hear any movement he pushed the door open and entered hurriedly, before he could lose his nerve.

_"Bloody fucking hell, Yuy!"_ was the only thing his fogged mind could come up with.


	4. Savior and destruction

NOT FORGOTTEN

Heero's naked form tensed and he smiled bitterly up at Duo, blood dripping slowly from between the fingers clasped tightly over his thigh. "Duo." the word was more an accusation than a greeting. "You saw what you came to see, now you can get the hell out of here and tell our dear _friends_ what you learned." he spat the statement at Duo's shocked face. "tell them that I'm fucking the vilest piece of shit on L2, and I hope they choke on it."

Duo flinched, taking a few tentative steps towards Heero. "Looks to me like he's fucking you." he observed calmly. Heero was just lying there, like he'd seen so many people lying their, including himself, covered in blood and cum, naked and pale, his eyes completely drained of all will or real emotion but the temporary warmth of anger. He had bruises, new and old, marring most of his thin body, which was trembling from aftershock.

Carefully Duo reached out and lifted Heero's hand away from his leg, hissing in sympathy. Blood dripped sluggishly out of a gash on the soft inside of Heero's thigh, torn open and jagged.

"How can you do this to yourself?!" he asked in pain as Heero tensed beneath his hands. He dropped them away from the boy in front of him and went to look for something to clean out the tear. It was unnerving to see someone so _perfect _go through something so demeaning and painful. Duo wanted to curl into a ball and cry. He could barely hold back the flood of memories, of tears he hadn't shed for too long. When he found ointment and bandages he took a deep breath and walked back into the bedroom, only to find Heero wincing his way into a sitting position, jaw clenched. Duo pushed him back onto the bed, afraid that Heero would tear something. "How did this happen?" he asked, his hand hovering over the torn flesh. Heero flinched a little, wanting more than anything to pull the blankets over his exposed (_vulnerable!!!)_ body and sleep off the pain, to try and forget. But he answered Duo anyways, because he obviously expected him to. "Spikes. Jake never takes them off; he thinks it's a power sign or something. And I guess it works too."

Duo shuddered, trying to be gentle while he rubbed ointment into the wound. After he was done he wrapped Heero's leg tightly with the bandages and went to wash his hands. He felt more like taking a shower than just rinsing his hands though; a very long, hot shower. "At least you didn't need stitches." he told Heero, suddenly feeling cold, and unbelievably angry. He knew it wasn't Heero's fault that any of this had happened, but _damn_ him for being so stubborn, so self sufficient and unwilling to come to any of them for help. Furious tears stung at his eyes and he turned away to wipe at them. When he turned around the emotion was gone, replaced by something darker.

Heero flinched a little. He hated to see Duo so unhappy and serious looking. It didn't fit what he remembered of his old lover at all. Then again, that was the problem wasn't it? He hadn't remembered that Duo had thoughts and feeling, that he required love and that he needed Heero to show him how much he cared about him, constantly. That was what had driven his lover away in the first place. So it was natural that Duo would be angry at him. As angry as Heero was at Duo for leaving. They had a lot of things to work out, and Heero didn't want to deal with any of it right now. What he wanted right now was to curl up into a ball and be treated kindly by someone who cared, someone who didn't just want him for sex. Someone who could call him something other than a whore or a slut. Someone who wanted what was best for him, and even if that person wasn't Duo, he was all Heero had right now, and no one could be worse than Jake's calculating cruelty. Telling himself that it was just a mechanism Jake resorted to using to break him didn't help Heero ignore the degradation and pain of the last two years since Duo had left. It didn't make things any easier to deal with, and it sure as hell didn't comfort him. But it was all he'd had for so long. 


End file.
